


it's a kind of magic

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec is just very confused, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magic Revealed, Magic-Users, Magnus is a warlock and trying to hide it, it's just very fluffy, the furniture talks sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: Alec frowns at a point just over Magnus’ shoulder, and then his eyes widen. “Magnus… did your house plant just wave at me?”Magnus freezes. He whirls around and glares, hissing, “Figmund, youpromised.”Figmund wiggles its leaves unrepentantly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure, I have no idea what this is. I was trying to write magical realism and it devolved into this mess. It's basically Magnus trying to hide the fact that he's magical from a completely human Alec, who's generally bemused, while things go wrong around them. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you!

Magnus kicks a moving star chart under the sofa and shoos Chairman Meow into the bedroom just as a knock sounds at the door. He gives a quick, cursory glance around the apartment and then breathes deeply, attempting to steady himself, before crossing the room and opening the door.

Alexander Lightwood is standing on the other side, one hand shoved awkwardly in his jacket pocket and the other holding a bottle of wine like a lifeline. A small but genuine grin lights up his handsome features when Magnus smile at him, and Magnus quickly ushers him inside before Chairman Meow can slip through the bedroom door and make a break for it. He’s done it before, and Magnus doesn’t fancy spending a half hour chasing down his familiar, not when he’s finally gotten his attractive but ultimately _shy_ neighbour to agree to come for dinner.

“I wasn’t sure what to bring,” Alec says, proffering the bottle of wine uncomfortably. “I thought about flowers, but I wasn’t sure…”

“Flowers would have been lovely,” Magnus assures him, winking. “But wine is just as good. And you didn’t have to bring anything at all, Alexander. I’m just happy with just your company.”

Maybe Magnus is laying it on a little thick, but Alec blushes so prettily when he’s flustered that it’s hard to resist. He takes the wine and leads Alec into the living area, waving a hand at the sofa. He has to restrain himself from summoning two glasses from the kitchen, and steps through the doorway to dig through the cupboards.

“Um, Magnus?”

Magnus pokes his head around the door and immediately starts cursing internally. There’s a crystal ball sitting on the table, a large, purple crystal ball. Magnus knows for a fact that he shoved the crystal ball in the cupboard of the TV unit before Alec came around, which means it must have rolled free and transported itself onto the table. Oh God, what if Alec saw? Magnus casts a quick, panicked glance at Alec, who appears to be frowning, but otherwise looks unbothered.

“Was that there when I came in?”

Magnus breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes, actually, I’d forgotten to put it away. It was my grandmother’s, you see, and I was just taking it out for a bit of a polish when you knocked.”

It’s a flimsy lie, but Alec doesn’t question it. Instead, he reaches over, and before Magnus can shout a warning, he places one hand on the crystal ball and lifts it up. There’s a small flash from deep within the ball that Alec doesn’t see because his eyes are vacant and lost, and Magnus sucks in a harsh breath before dashing forward to wrench the ball out of Alec’s lax grip. It skids out of their fingers and drops to the floor, cushioned by the Persian rug, rolling to a stop under the coffee table.

Alec is ghost-white and swaying slightly, blinking rapidly as Magnus stares at him uncertainly.

“What was that?” Alec utters, voice barely audible.

“What was what?”

“ _That_ ,” Alec says, and then backs up a step. “Actually, I’m not feeling too well. I think I’d – I should probably – I’ll see you around? Yeah, I’ll see you.”

He makes it to the door and yanks it open, offering Magnus a kind of salute before tripping over the step and out into the corridor. The door slips shut quietly behind him, and Magnus sits down hard on the couch, groaning. There’s a stew cooking on the stove that’s going to have to be boxed up and eaten throughout the week, and a bottle of wine on the counter that he’s probably going to devour before the night’s out.

He can’t believe he was so stupid. He should have locked everything away and put spells in place to keep everything from acting up, but Magnus has always _liked_ the freedom and tranquillity of his apartment. He likes that the windchimes play tunes in the morning according to which song is on the radio. He likes that the radio switches channels every time an Ellie Goulding song plays. He likes that the furniture dances around and the house plant in the corner – Figmund – waves every time Magnus walks by. He likes that the clock tells him what time it is in a falsetto and that the mirror always makes sure to write nice things on the steamed-up surface when he showers. He likes his apartment, the wonder and the excitement of it, and he doesn’t want to give it up, but he also quite likes Alec, and wants to get to know him better.

“And that’s not going to happen if my crystal ball keeps giving him visions every time he steps through the door,” Magnus says, glaring balefully at the ball under the table.

The bedroom door slips open, and Chairman Meow slinks daintily across the apartment before jumping up onto Magnus’ lap, digging his claws in until Magnus hisses.

“What do you want?”

Chairman Meow arches an eyebrow disdainfully.

“Oh, hush,” Magnus says grumpily. “I’m allowed to be miserable. He didn’t even take his jacket off before my weirdness chased him out.”

Chairman Meow rolls his eyes and jumps down, batting the crystal ball until Magnus grudgingly gets up and picks it up. He’s instantly thrown into a vision that leaves him reeling, images flashing in front of his eyes.

There’s Alec, dressed in a soft sweater and sprawled on a bed, grinning up at someone, presumably Magnus. There’s Alec, making coffee at the counter in nothing but his boxers, a frown on his face as he fiddles with the machine. There’s Alec, again, curled up on the couch with a wrinkle between his eyebrows, paperwork in his lap and a pen tucked behind his ear. There are soft, fleeting touches and intimate glances and warm kisses, and Magnus can feel something heavy curling in his stomach as he sinks to the floor, eyes wide in wonder.

The thing about the future is that it’s never certain. There’s no one route to take, no path snaking its way through the world that you will definitely travel. It’s all a matter of circumstance, and decisions, and the crystal ball knows that – so Magnus doesn’t really understand what it’s doing. Sometimes it shows your worst fear. Sometimes it shows the future you’re most likely to have if you stay on your path. And sometimes, if you’re very lucky, it shows the future you would love to have the most.

Magnus knows that he likes Alec. He definitely knows that he wants to get to know Alec, could see them dating in the future. But this, this quiet intimacy and – and, _love_ , well, that hasn’t really crossed Magnus’ mind. But it’s crossed someone’s mind, or the ball wouldn’t have shown it to him.

Which begs the question, _what did Alec see?_

Magnus puts down the ball and lets Chairman Meow roll it back towards the cupboard, where it hops inside itself and closes the door, duties fulfilled. Then he heads to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of wine.

He’s got some things to think about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you got body parts in there, or something?” Alec jokes nervously, and Magnus winces because _buttered fingers_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update, I'm going to try and finish this fic as soon as I can so I don't have it clogging up my laptop. Thank you, so much, for all the lovely response to the first chapter! I hope you like this one as well :)

“I owe you an apology.”

Magnus turns slowly, arms laden down with shopping, and peeks over a carton of morning dew to find Alec standing in the corridor, hands tucked away and shifting back and forth on his feet, face creased up. Magnus has to spit his keys out of his mouth to speak, and they land with a soft thump inside his shopping bag, which is when Magnus realises that his _shopping is on display_.

Usually this wouldn’t be much of a problem.

Today, though, is a Tuesday, and Tuesday’s are the days that Magnus spends at the apothecary, gathering ingredients and haggling with withered old witches over the price of baby bat wings. He carefully composes his expression into one of polite curiosity, hiding his panic, because he has a bag full of newt eyes and buttered fingers and Alexander is standing _right there_.

“For the other night?” Alec continues, when Magnus stays quiet for too long. He takes a step forward and Magnus whips the bags behind him in a flash, knocking his elbow against the door in his attempt to hide them. He’s not sure if he left the big conch shell on the top or the bottom of the bag, and while it’s not as damning as, say, buttered fingers, it’s still not exactly a normal purchase.

Alec’s face is a picture of shock.

“Have you got body parts in there, or something?” Alec jokes nervously, and Magnus winces because _buttered fingers_.

“Just, uh, some personal things that I left a little too close to the top,” Magnus lies, with a slightly strained smile. He winks, “I wouldn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

Alec scoffs. “If you’d met my sister, you’d know why that wasn’t a problem.” Then he glances down at the bags, just visible behind Magnus’ back, and blushes a deep red. Apparently the implications of the phrase _personal things_ are just beginning to sink in, and Magnus honestly did not think this through before he spoke. It’s usually not a problem for him – he’s always been articulate and well-mannered, but something about Alec leaves him feeling a like a bumbling, tongue-tied idiot.

“Your face says otherwise, darling,” Magnus says, with a small grin, and Alec scowls, although it seems like he’s mostly scowling at himself. “What were you saying, before I acted like an idiot?”

Alec’s face softens, and he smiles. “You weren’t acting like an idiot. I was going to apologise for running out on you. I swear I had a good reason at the time, but as soon as I left I regretted it.”

“Did you forget about something?” Magnus asks innocently, even though he knows damn well why Alec left.  “Leave the stove on?”

Alec blushes again, shakes his head, and he looks so upset that Magnus deflates, smiling softly.

“I’m not mad, Alexander. You had some things to take care of, and that’s fine. These things happen. We just picked a bad night, that’s all.”

Alec twists his hands together nervously, and then shoves them in his jacket pockets, out of sight. He blows out a breath and says, in a rush, “Did you want to try again, sometime?”

Magnus can feel his mouth drop open in surprise, and snaps it shut quickly. He honestly didn’t think Alec would want to see him again, at least not in a date-way, not if the crystal ball showed him the same things it showed Magnus. It’s a bit much to push on someone when you aren’t even dating, and even more shocking considering Alec isn’t supposed to be getting _visions_ of _magical futures_.

“I’d like to get to know you,” Alec adds, when Magnus is silent for too long. “Unless you don’t want to, in which case forget I said anything, just ignore me.” He looks vaguely panicky, and Magnus has to step subtly on his own foot to get himself to speak.

“No, no!” Magnus says, half-shouting. “That would be lovely, Alec. I mean it. What did you have in mind?”

The door to Magnus’ apartment chooses this moment to swing open with an ominous creak, as though beckoning them inside. They both stare at it for a split second, and Magnus scoffs because _honestly_ , his apartment is hardly subtle.  

“Is there someone else in there?” Alec asks uncertainly.

“Just a breeze, I’m sure,” Magnus says airily. “It happens all the time.”

“A breeze,” Alec says, deadpan. “In the middle of a corridor, inside a building, on the third floor, where there aren’t any windows.”

“I must have left a window open inside.”

“The door opened inwards, though,” Alec presses, frowning. “And you’ve just been out, so wasn’t it locked?”

Magnus gives Alec his most dazzling smile and steps forward, putting his bags down in favour of reaching up to brush invisible lint off of Alec’s collar. He makes sure to skim Alec’s neck with his fingertips, and is rewarded with a slight shudder. He feels a little bad, distracting Alec like this, but not bad enough to stop doing it, not when it gets him this close to him.

“You were talking about a date, I believe?”

Alec’s eyes flick towards the open door, then down at the shopping bags, and then back up to Magnus’ face. He’s only a little bit taller than Magnus, so they’re mostly at eye-level, and Alec does have such pretty eyes. Magnus could stare at them all day.

Alec clears his throat. “I was thinking, we could do dinner? But maybe I should cook this time.” He glances at the apartment door again, and he’s clearly thinking about creaking doors and mysterious crystal balls when he adds, “In my apartment, if that’s okay?”

Magnus’ mouth quirks into a small smile, and he’s honestly relieved at the suggestion. It will be much easier to hide his magic if he doesn’t have to worry about his fireplace suddenly bursting into song, or the cushions cuddling up to Alec.

Alec, who’s staring nervously at Magnus, still waiting for an answer.

“I’d love that,” Magnus says warmly, and Alec’s face lights up. “We could always order in, if you don’t want to cook?”

“I like cooking,” Alec says, and grins. “I’ll make you something special.”

“Is Friday alright with you?”

“Friday is perfect,” Alec agrees, and Magnus watches him walk away backwards, both of them smiling like idiots. Catarina would laugh at him for acting so besotted, and Ragnor would be making disgusted noises by about now, pretending to retch into Magnus’ shopping, but luckily I’s just him and Alec, and then when Alec goes inside, Magnus feels quite within his rights to do a small victory wiggle in the hallway.

Magnus kicks the door shut gently when he goes inside, and then shoots it a baleful look. “How many times have I told you that you need to wait for me to unlock you before you open?”

It was too close a call, really, and Magnus can’t afford for his strange abnormality to scare Alec away, not when he’s this close. Not to mention that the magical world is supposed to be a secret from all humans, for everyone’s safety.

The door makes a sad little noise, hinges squeaking, and Magnus sighs and pats the handle. “Just don’t do it again. Oh, there you are, Chairman.”

He collapses on the sofa beside Chairman Meow, who lets out a questioning little _mrow_. Magnus makes a disgusted noise.

“No, I didn’t get you any bat wings. The price was _extortionate_ , and the old hag at the counter wouldn’t lower the cost, not even for her favourite customer.”

Another _mrow_ , this time disdainful.

“Yes, I _am_ her favourite customer, thank you very much. No one else buys up that much stock apart from Raphael, and it’s not like she’s going to prefer that vampire over me. Not that being a vampire is a problem, of course. Don’t look at me like that, that’s not what I meant. I meant that I’m superior as a person, not as a species. Here, have a pixie wing instead. Those were cheap, and I only need four.”

Chairman Meow eyes the pixie wing like it’s a particularly venomous snake, and Magnus scoffs and puts it down on the table, only for Chairman Meow to launch himself over Magnus’ head, land heavily on the coffee and bat at the shiny thing with his paws.

“He’s going to scratch my surface,” the coffee table whines, and Magnus waves a hand lazily to shut it up.

“Chairman, I have a date,” Magnus says, a little wonderingly. Chairman Meow ignores him, busy chewing on the end of the wing, but Magnus doesn’t care. He feels like he’s full of light, and he can feel it reflected in his magic as a wind whips through the apartment, stirring up his hair and making the windchimes ring alarmingly. “I have a _date_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that? Please let me know what you thought with a comment, I'd love to hear from you! Thank you so much :) You can reach me @thealmostrhetoricalquestion on tumblr :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Honestly, Magnus, praying on a man’s lactose intolerance like that. It’s beneath you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry it's been so long, I got stuck halfway through and couldn't think what to write. This chapter is a bit longer :) Thank you so much for all the lovely responses on the previous chapter, honestly, I love hearing from all of you! I hope you like this chapter :) Thank you!

Catarina is lounging on a mound of cushions on the floor, surveying her nails with a critical air as she turns them from red, to green, to pink, and back to red again with a flick of her other hand. The cushions keep wriggling under her, protesting her weight, and Magnus flicks a spell at them fondly to quieten them down.

“Your magic is wild,” Catarina says. “Far too wild. Your apartment’s grown three sizes since I last saw you, and everything speaks and moves when you aren’t looking at it. Are you really going to wear that waistcoat with that scarf?”

Magnus glances down at himself and then scowls. His scarf was blue a few moments ago, but now it’s a light green with silver paisleys embroidered all over the silky surface.

“No, I am not, although I’m surprised you noticed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you know nothing of fashion, Catarina, my dear,” Magnus says, flicking the scarf over his shoulder and rummaging around in his wardrobe for a new waistcoat, rather than trying to attempt to get his scarf to change back.

“I resent that remark, but I also resemble it, so I suppose I’ll let you off the hook, just this once. But really, Magnus, you’re going to get in trouble one of these days. Did you pour _all_ of your magic into this place?”

Magnus shrugs delicately. “You know magic doesn’t work like that. But if it did, I’d have some in reserve. I just may have gone a little overboard when I moved in, that’s all.”

There’s a very judgemental silence from the floor.

“There’s no harm in it,” Magnus snaps defensively. “And I happen to like my magic this way.”

Catarina sighs and rises from the floor. The cushions give a collective sigh of relief. She crosses the room and adjusts his scarf, leaning in to kiss him gently on the cheek with ice-tinted lips.

“I’m not criticising you, Magnus. It would just be nice to be able to sit on your couch without worrying about whether or not it’s going to pinch my ass.”

Magnus laughs delightedly. “Did it really do that? That’s wonderful.”

Catarina gives him a very dry look. “If that’s what you want to call it. But anyway, enough about that. Tell me about this boy of yours.”

“Man, Catarina, he is a _man_ ,” Magnus says, sniffing importantly. “A very fine man, too.”

Catarina rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard all about what he looks like, and how much you want to kiss him and stroke his face. I was referring to what he’s actually _like_.”

“I don’t know yet,” Magnus says, flicking his scarf at her. “That’s what the date is for. To get to know each other.”

“You must have thought about it, though,” Catarina presses. “For the crystal ball to show you those things.” Then she smiles slyly. “Unless it wasn’t you who was thinking about your possible future together. In which case, that only leaves one other suspect, doesn’t it?”

Magnus will deny until his dying day that he goes a little red and a little warm at the thought of Alec thinking about their future together. Catarina will crow until her dying day about the time she saw the ever-shameless Magnus Bane blush red like a fire hydrant.

*

There’s a knock on the door just as Magnus finishes slipping on his shoes. Catarina arches an eyebrow and flings herself across the room before Magnus can so much as utter a sticking spell.

“You cheated,” Magnus says. “I know you cheated. You used a speeding spell.”

“As if you weren’t considering the same thing.” Catarina opens the door with a flourish and a sly smile. Alec, standing on the other side with his fist half-raised, looks up with a soft smile on his face, and then he balks when he catches sight of Catarina.

“You’re _blue_ ,” Alec says, shocked stiff. His hand drops to his side. “ _Why_ are you blue?”

Catarina sniffs. “It’s very rude to comment on other people’ appearances.”

“She’s just trying out a new body paint,” Magnus says weakly. He throws on a charming smile as Alec tears his eyes away from Catarina to stare at him, and Alec smiles back, rather taken aback.

“Well, it’s very good. Very realistic. It looks like normal skin, only… well, blue.”

A slightly awkward silence falls, where they just look at each other, and then Catarina snickers.

“Well, I have a night shift in a few hours, so I should probably leave you two lovebirds alone. Ta, darling.”

She waltzes over to give Magnus a kiss on the cheek again, and then sidles past Alec with a little wave. Alec watches her go with a strange look on his face, an expression that Magnus can’t place.

“Friend of yours?”

“A very dear friend, when she’s not being completely horrible, which is only ninety percent of the time,” Magnus says affectionately. “We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“She seems nice,” Alec says quietly.

 _Oh_. Jealousy, _that’s_ what the expression is. Magnus feels a rush of warmth, and steps closer, one hand coming up to pull Alec’s jacket up over his shoulder properly. He’s wearing a nice shirt on under the jacket, and he smells like aftershave, but not too strongly. Magnus is close enough to count each long, feathered eyelash, if he wants to.

“She is nice,” Magnus agrees. “She’s also the person who’s seen me fall out of several trees, almost choke to death on a dry-roasted peanut and try to offer a married man my hand in marriage whilst incredibly inebriated. She was there for my Axe phase. Trust me when I say that she’ll never be anything more than a very close friend.”

“Was I that obvious?” Alec asks, hunching his shoulders a little sheepishly.

Magnus pats his cheek. “Not at all, darling. I’m just incredibly intelligent, that’s all. Now, didn’t we have a date to be going on?”

Alec’s face lights up, and he sweeps his hand out in front of him. “After you.”

Magnus can feel his whole apartment swoon.

*

“You know, you didn’t have to walk me here,” Magnus says, as he settles onto Alec’s couch. The apartment isn’t as big as Magnus’, but it’s clean and tidy and very minimalist, which Magnus can appreciate it. “It’s only a few doors down.”

“I wanted to,” Alec says, passing him a wine glass and setting a bottle down on the table. Magnus smiles up at him and Alec fumbles the bottle.

The talk while the food simmers on the stove, about Alec’s family – he has a sister and an adopted brother, Magnus learns, and both of them are obviously wonderful people, if the way Alec talks about them is any indication. He doesn’t talk about his parents, and Magnus doesn’t ask. He also has a much younger brother, and his whole face lights up when he talks about them.

“What about you? Any family? Any vengeful older brothers I should know about?”

“You’re safe, fortunately, although you may have to deal with a few overprotective friends,” Magnus adds. “It’s just me, has been for a few years now, since my grandmother died. She was a wonderful woman, though. Mad as a bat, too.”

Alec fumbles around until he finds Magnus’ hand and squeezes it in some clumsy attempt at comfort, which he appreciates, even though it’s not necessary. Magnus twists his hand and threads their fingers together, squeezing lightly, and rests them on his thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth over Alec’s knuckles. It brings a light shade of pink to Alec’s cheeks.

“Tell me about your friends, then,” Alec suggests. “I already met one of them, the blue one. What was her name?”

“Catarina Loss, and yes, she’s often blue.”

Catarina usually uses a glamour when she’s in public, but Magnus’ apartment is a safe haven for most of his friends, who all – apart from Tessa – have some kind of mark to show what they are. Raphael has fangs, Catarina is blue-skinned, and Ragnor is – Ragnor is _standing right behind Alec._

Magnus feels panic burst inside of him, like the pop of champagne. Ragnor is perched on the cabinet near the far wall, his clawed feet leaving dents in the dark wood, his beak opening and closing with an impatient click. He has transformed into some kind of bird today, feathers doused in a rich, deep green, the same colour as his skin, and Magnus has no idea how he got into Alec’s apartment, or why, but he’s starting to really panic now. Ragnor means _trouble_.

“Magnus?”

“Did you leave a window open?” Magnus’ voice cracks embarrassingly.

Alec frowns. “The kitchen one, possibly. Are you cold? I’ll go and close it.”

He gets up before Magnus can protest. Magnus waits until he’s gone before leaning forward and hissing, “ _Ragnor_.”

Ragnor flits a little closer, landing on the arm of the couch. He ruffles his wings importantly and cocks his head at Magnus, indicating the door with a little flick of his feathers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Magnus whispers fiercely. “I’m on a date. Go away.”

“Magnus? Did you say something?”

“Nothing!” Magnus leans forward and points accusingly at Ragnor. “I mean it, Ragnor. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I’m not leaving.”

Ragnor’s beady little eyes narrow, and Magnus feels a small seed of dread start to bloom within him. That’s not a good look. That is a look people see right before they die. Before Magnus can start to threaten Ragnor to behave, Alec comes back in with a sweater in one hand and a blanket in the other. Ragnor disappears before Alec can see him, fluttering through an open door.

“I thought, if you were cold, you could borrow something of mine,” Alec suggests hesitantly. He puts them both down on the back of the couch and sits beside Magnus again, swigging at his wine like it cost all of his courage to do that. Magnus isn’t cold, but he swipes the jumper up anyway and spreads it over his lap, marvelling at the softness.

“Thank you, Alec, that was very thoughtful of you,” Magnus says. Alec smiles at him, red all over.

“I can put something on the television, if you like,” Alec says. “I only have a few films, because Izzy insisted I broaden my cultural horizons, whatever that’s supposed to mean.” He looks so disgruntled, like a child, that Magnus has to laugh.

Ragnor appears again, something soft clutched between his beak, and Magnus chokes on his tongue.

Alec frowns at him, alarmed. “Are you alright?”

It’s a pair of _boxer shorts_. Ragnor is holding a pair of Alec’s boxer shorts in his beak, dear _lord_ , and he’s edging closer like he’s thinking of dropping them on Alec’s head, which, knowing Ragnor, isn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

“I’m fine,” Magnus says, voice choked. “Alec, darling, do you think I could trouble you for a glass of water?”

Alec frowns, concerned. “Yeah, sure. Are you sure you’re alright? You sound a bit hoarse.”

“Nothing some water won’t fix,” Magnus assures him, and then holds his breath as Alec gets up to walk past Ragnor. He doesn’t notice the small green bird on the arm of the chair, but he damn well hears the little chirp that Ragnor releases just as he reaches the door.

Frowning faintly, Alec glances at Magnus. “Did you hear something?”

Magnus fixes on a slightly strained smile. “Nothing at all. Perhaps you’re going a little funny in your old age.” He winks, and Alec snorts before disappearing.

Magnus whirls around, whips the boxers out of Ragnor’s grasp and starts beating him over the head with it. There’s a series of small, indignant squawks and then Magnus stuffs the boxers down the side of the couch and levels a look at him.

“I am not leaving this date, Ragnor, so you need to leave, now, before I lose my patience and turn you into something you can’t change back from. Like a mange-ridden goat. Now, get _out_.”

Magnus flicks a hand at the door to Alec’s apartment, and a small gust of wind carries a very indignant little green bird across the room, out of the door, and deposits it on the doorstep, slamming the door shut behind it.

Alec pops his head around the frame, looking a little frazzled. “Did something break?”

“You really are hearing things today,” Magnus teases, only feeling a little bad for the deception. It’s for Alec’s own good that he doesn’t get sucked into the insane world Magnus lives in before he’s ready. “Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

“No, no, I’m just arguing with the potatoes,” Alec says. He reaches over the back of the couch and hands Magnus a glass of water, which Magnus takes gratefully.

Just as Alec is about to duck back into the kitchen, presumably to deal with unruly vegetables, there’s a knock on the door.

Magnus closes his eyes and prays for death.

The knock sounds again, impatient, and Alec frowns and crosses the room, wiping his hands on a dishtowel and flinging it over his shoulder in a move that would make Magnus’ apartment sigh dreamily.

The door is flung open to reveal Ragnor, in all his green-skinned glory, standing on the doorstep exactly where the little green bird had been not moments before.

“Sorry to bother you,” Ragnor says in a tone that implies exactly the opposite, “I’m just looking for Magnus. He wasn’t at home, and he mentioned something about a date with a handsome boy.”

Alec flushes red and glances over his shoulder at Magnus, who offers him a weak, apologetic smile.

“Uh, right,” Alec says, flustered. “Let me just…”

He gestures over his shoulder and Magnus rises gracefully, walking over and resisting the urge to turn Ragnor into something hideously creepy and disturbing, like the porcelain dolls that his grandmother used to collect.

“What do you want?” Magnus hisses.

“Your help,” Ragnor says. “Now.”

Magnus flaps his hands around helplessly and then sighs. Ragnor isn’t going to go away without getting whatever it is he came for, and he’s probably just going to keep annoying them both until the date is unable to be salvaged, and Magnus doesn’t want that. He sighs again and turns to look at Alec, who’s come back out of the kitchen with a dismayed look on his face, clutching something that looks an awful lot like a tray of charcoal.

Magnus’ mouth twitches. “Honestly, Alexander, whatever the potatoes did surely didn’t deserve such retribution.”

Alec smirks back. “Revenge is mine.” Then he sobers slightly and says, “I may, possibly, have burnt our dinner.”

“That’s alright,” Magnus says. “It turns out that I have to leave anyway. Something’s come up suddenly, and my friend needs some help. I’m so sorry.”

Alec looks so disappointed, clutching his tray of charred potatoes, that Magnus honestly considers just booting Ragnor into the next country and letting Catarina deal with him. He’s about to suggest it, quietly, to Ragnor, when the piercing sound of a fire alarm splits the silence.

They both look over to where thick, black smoke is pouring out of the kitchen, and Magnus says hurriedly, “Perhaps you better deal with that, and we can sort out another date when we’re both less busy.”

Alec catches his breath. “You still want another date?”

“Magnus,” Ragnor says drolly, tapping his feat impatiently with a small, almost unnoticeable smirk. He knows _exactly_ what he’s doing, the bastard.

“Yes, alright,” Magnus says irritably, flapping a hand. He leans over, kisses Alec quickly on the cheek before he can lose his nerve, and then steps outside. There’s the sound of fumbling and cursing as Alec presumably rushes off to deal with his burning kitchen, and then the door swings shut, leaving them in complete silence.

Ragnor turns back into a bird before Magnus can hit him.

*

“I hate you,” Magnus says plainly, when Ragnor transforms back into his usual obnoxious self in the safety of Magnus’ apartment. “I hate you so much that I’m going to swap your water out for milk in the middle of the night, when you’re too tired to tell.”

“Honestly, Magnus, praying on a man’s lactose intolerance like that. It’s beneath you.”

“I assume you have a reason for turning up out of the blue and utterly destroying my date?”

“Was that a pun directed at the colour of my skin?” Ragnor asks, deadpan. “I am absolutely outraged.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Ragnor, my dear, darling friend, your skin is _green_. Now, what the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Well, I blew mine up,” Ragnor mutters.

“ _What?”_

“I blew mine up,” Ragnor says, louder. “Kaboom. It was a bit of an inconvenience, if I’m honest.”

“How on earth did you – you know what? Never mind. I’m not sure I want to know. Are you hurt?”

“I managed to get out on time.” Ragnor flaps a hand. “I was thinking I could stay with you for a while, until I get back on my feet.”

Magnus lets out a despairing noise and pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s no way he could turn Ragnor away, even if the man is a pain in the ass, and a meddlesome one, at that, but he also doesn’t want Ragnor camped out on his couch for the foreseeable future. While in the past, Magnus might have considered an adventure worth pursuing, he has other things to think about now.

Namely, Alec, who’s probably sitting in his apartment right now, wondering why on earth he ever felt the urge to ask Magnus Bane out on a date.

A frantic knock sounds at the door, and the entire apartment sucks in a breath. Magnus frowns and makes a shooing motion at Ragnor, who plonks himself down on the couch and wriggles around to make himself comfortable.

“I hate you,” Magnus mouths, and then he makes his way to the door.

Alec is on the other side, looking particularly bedraggled.

“You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards,” Magnus says, surprised. “Is everything alright, Alexander?”

“I had a whole plan,” Alec blurts out. “I was going to ask you out weeks ago, but I was too nervous. And then you asked me out, and I had a whole plan, and then I ruined our first date, and then your friend ruined the second one—hello, by the way—”

Ragnor waves from inside, and Magnus scowls over his shoulder and pulls the door closed, stepping outside. Alec doesn’t really back away, so they end up mushed together on Magnus’ doorstep while Alec drags a hand through his hair and looks vaguely panicked.

“—and I had this whole thing planned out, but none of it’s really working out the way I hoped.”

“Alec, breathe,” Magnus says softly. “What did you have planned?”

“Well, for starters, I wasn’t going to wage war on the potatoes,” Alec says firmly, and Magnus laughs quietly. Alec’s eyes go soft and warm at the sound and he continues earnestly, “And I was going to wear a shirt that didn’t have a secret stain on the back, and I was going to think of interesting things to talk about, so that when I walked you back to your apartment later, you wouldn’t think I was a loser when I tried to do this.”

And Alec leans in and kisses him.

Their noses bump a little at first, and then Alec tilts his head a little to the side. Magnus gasps a little in surprise, and Alec kisses his bottom lip, tugging him closer by his jacket. It’s soft and mostly chaste, warm, and it sets a little fire going under Magnus’ ribcage. He can feel the thrum of Alec’s heartbeat under his fingers when he skims a hand over his wrists, holding them tightly as though Alec might float away any minute now.

Alec draws back with a soft sound, breathing heavily, his face still pressed close to Magnus’, and Magnus forces his eyes open.

“I definitely approve of your plan,” Magnus says.

“Good,” Alec says roughly. “Could we do it again, so I can stop thinking about how all of your friends are apparently multi-coloured?”

Magnus pauses for a second, and then groans, letting his head thump down against Alec’s collarbone. One of Alec’s hands comes up to ghost tentatively along the nape of his neck, and Magnus suppresses a shiver.

“I swear to God, it’s body paint.”

“Do you have a red friend tucked away somewhere? Maybe a pink one? A whole rainbow of colours?” Alec muses.

“Just kiss me again, Alec,” Magnus says, and Alec laughs and complies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much :) Let me know what you thought and come say hello on tumblr @thealmostrhetoricalquestion :) Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, Magnus, don’t terrorise your soft furnishings. They’re only trying to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem. I'm sorry for the long wait! Happily, though, the next chapter is the last one, and it's almost done, so you won't have to wait that long for that one! This is mostly a filler before the big reveal, but I hope you enjoy it regardless :) Much love, and thank you for the lovely response to the last chapter!

“Your couch is biting me,” Ragnor says absently. 

“It knows what you did.” 

Ragnor sighs despairingly. “All that I did was say that I’d prefer to watch something else over Legally Blonde. I hardly think that’s a crime deserving of bitemarks on my posterior.”

“Legally Blonde is a masterpiece, and you should learn to appreciate it, Ragnor,” Magnus says. He’s elbow-deep in purple suds and craning his head to look at his friend, who’s lounging on the couch like Lady Muck, sipping idly at a cup of coffee while he flicks through the television channels. 

“What are you doing anyway?” 

“I’m making a Reality Altering Potion,” Magnus says. “I had some leftover ingredients that were going to go out of date, so I decided to whip something up quickly before Alec comes over.”

“Ah yes, the boyfriend. May I ask, why are you making it in the sink?”

“I’ve never actually found a cauldron with a sustainable bottom, so the products tend to leak all over the floor. And it’s easy to heat the metal in the sink with a quick spell. Besides, I’ve always found cauldrons to be rather tacky.”

“You find cauldrons tacky, but not the tons of glitter that you constantly cover yourself in?”

Magnus ignores him. “How is the house-hunting going?” 

“Catarina is going to help me find somewhere close by later on, while you’re out.”

Magnus wrinkles his nose. “Close by?” 

Ragnor shoots him a droll look. “Do you not desire me close by, Magnus? Are you not enjoying my company?”

“I’d enjoy it a lot more if you would watch Legally Blonde with me.”

Ragnor is in the middle of an angry rant when Alec knocks on the door, poking his head in. Magnus panics, siphoning the orange mixture out of his sink and pouring it into an empty orange juice carton, hissing at everything until the kitchen starts to tidy itself up. He dries his hands on a dish-towel and comes to greet Alec, blocking his view of the kitchen by gesturing subtly at a plant pot, which discreetly places itself in the doorway. 

“Are you ready to go?” Alec asks. 

“Yes, just give me a moment to put on some shoes. No wild parties, Ragnor, and do something useful with your time, like watching Legally Blonde, instead of re-arranging my books again. I like the Dewey Decimal System.”

Ragnor grumbles something unintelligible, and Alec shoves his hands in his pockets while he waits, grinning as they bicker back and forth. He makes a small noise of surprise that distracts Magnus from his argument, and he watches as Alec frowns down at his pocket, and then reaches in to withdraw a small blue crystal with a piece of braided red twine wrapped around in. 

“This is the third time this week that I’ve found something weird in my pocket,” Alec mutters, shoving the crystal back out of sight. Magnus can barely breathe at the sight of it – yes, he’s been making several safety and good luck charms recently, and yes, he’s been making them with Alec in mind, but they’re supposed to be sitting in the drawer of his bedside table, not anywhere within reach of Alec himself, who’s looking rather confounded. 

“Yes, that is rather strange,” Magnus says, his voice cracking. 

“I found a bundle of braided feathers the other day and this morning when I woke up there was a dream-catcher by my window,” Alec continues, oblivious to Magnus’ internal break-down. “Izzy must have put it there, but I have no idea how she got in without me seeing, since I’ve been working from home all week. I should never have given her a key.” 

Magnus distinctly remembers sitting up all night as he created that dream-catcher from scratch, threading string through beads and wrapping little lumps of crystal at the edges, all while focusing on Alec. He definitely doesn’t remember sneaking into Alec’s apartment to hang it up in his window while the other men slept, although Magnus knows his magic well enough now to know not to ask about how such things could possibly have occurred. 

“Best not to ask her about it,” Magnus says. “I’m sure it’ll only encourage a surge of new pranks.”

“Ignoring it and hoping it will go away never really worked with Izzy,” Alec says wryly. “Never mind that, though. Where did you want to go tonight?”

Magnus shakes himself out of his stupor and smiles. “There’s a new restaurant opened up near the movie theatre, so I thought we could go for a bite to eat and then enjoy a film? Unless you have something better in mind.”

He feels bad; if Alec knew about his magic, then Magnus could easily open a portal and take him anywhere in the world that he wanted to go. Instead he’s stuck with local cuisine and entertainment, and he can only hope Alec doesn’t get bored of him because of it. 

“If it’s spending time with you, it’ll be perfect,” Alec says, with a hesitant grin, and Magnus leans in and kisses him deeply, thoroughly charmed. 

Ragnor makes a disgusted noise in the background. 

*

Magnus comes back from the date and stumbles towards the couch, which moves forward to accommodate him when he flops down on top of it. A few cushions wriggle under his legs and make themselves comfortable around his feet. A blanket throws itself over his prone form and tucks him in. Magnus groans, shifting to clutch his stomach. 

“Are we doing a swap? Does this mean I get to take your bed?” Ragnor comes in from the kitchen with a cup of black coffee, his nose wrinkled as he surveys Magnus. “You look dreadful. What did that boy do to you?” 

“That boy did nothing, thank you very much,” Magnus mumbles, voice muffled by the cushions. “I think I’ve caught something.” 

“Maybe someone cursed you,” Ragnor suggests. 

“I bet it was Raphael,” Magnus says, grumbling to himself as he shifts onto his back. The cushions and blankets move accordingly, covering him from head to toe. Magnus splutters and beats back the blanket, which makes a mournful sound. 

“Now, Magnus, don’t terrorise your soft furnishings. They’re only trying to help.” 

“They can help by fetching me a bucket,” Magnus groans. Ragnor pulls a disgusted face and takes a delicate step back out of the firing range. There’s a clatter from the kitchen as a large cauldron clambers out of the cupboard and skids across the length of two rooms to rest on the floor beside Magnus’ head. 

Magnus reaches down to pat it. “Thank you, but I’m not going to be sick in a cauldron.” 

“Well, it’s not as if you use it for anything else,” Ragnor points out. “They’re tacky, remember?”

The cauldron droops. 

“Sometimes I do my washing in it. It’s very good at making suds.”

The cauldron perks up again, and Magnus is reminded of a little puppy. All that’s missing is some fur, and a tail, and those can easily be magicked up. He pats it once more and then flips over to face Ragnor over the back of the couch, pulling his most pathetic face, which is hard to do when you’re still wearing eyeliner. 

“I’m having something of a crisis here, and you are being extremely unhelpful. What is the point of letting you sleep on my couch if you’re not going to cater to my every whim?”

Ragnor waves a dismissive hand. “So, your boyfriend took you to a dodgy restaurant and now you have food poisoning, it’s quite simple. Dump him and take plenty of fluids, which I will not be fetching for you.”

“I will not be dumping anybody, Ragnor, and I chose the restaurant, and it certainly wasn’t dodgy. It was delightful, in fact. I must have caught some sort of bug over the past few days. I haven’t been feeling all that great.”

He keeps his pathetic expression in place as he speaks, and eventually Ragnor caves, sighing deeply as he goes to get Magnus a drink. He comes back with a large bottle of cold water, a sleeve of crackers, several more blankets and some Cold and Flu tablets. Magnus crows delightedly, gulping down the water greedily as he pats Ragnor on the arm in gratitude. Ragnor retreats in disgust. 

“I’m going to have to boil this sleeve now.”

“Use my cauldron. He’d be happy to help.”

“Is my presence still required, or is it safe for me to leave? I was going to head to Catarina’s, since she couldn’t come over today. We need to look at houses for me, so that I’m not still here at Christmas.” 

Magnus sniffs. “You’re having a slumber party without me? Fine, I suppose. Go on, then. I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Can’t you call your boyfriend and ask him to look after you? I’m sure he’d relish the opportunity to take care of a pathetic, moping grown man.” 

“You know my magic goes haywire when I’m sick. Last time, I coughed and my trousers unbuckled. I couldn’t look Catarina in the eye for weeks.”

“Yes, well, if you wore underwear, then that wouldn’t have been such an issue.”

“When your skinny jeans are as tight as mine, underwear is not always an option.”

Ragnor releases a sigh that would not be out of place at a kindergarten play rehearsal. “Since I know you, I know that you’re going to put on a brave face and then secretly get back at us with passive aggressive Christmas gifts, so what if I were to call Catarina and arrange for us to look at houses here?” 

“Can we order takeaway?” 

“I thought you were feeling sick.”

“I think I can breathe in the aroma of butter chicken without throwing up.” 

Magnus does throw up, later, but it’s entirely worth it when the majority of it lands on Ragnor, who then promptly decides to stay at a hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that? I hope you enjoyed it! let me know what you thought, please leave a comment or a kudos, and come talk to me @thealmostrhetoricalquestion on tumblr! Thank you so much :)
> 
>  


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Magnus,” Alec says, drawing out the vowels, dazed. “Magnus, I can taste colours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the end! This is the last chapter! Thank you to anyone who commented or left a kudos, I really, really appreciate it :) I hope you've all enjoyed this, and I hope you like this chapter too. It was very tempting to keep going and explore their universe more, but I quite like where I've ended it. Seriously, thank you so much. Much love <3

Magnus answers the door in his dressing gown, after a quick spell to fix his hair and make-up, and reduce the dark circles to something that doesn’t resemble a black hole. Alec smiles as he opens the door, and leans in to kiss him hello. He leans away quickly, ducking out of reach, and Alec freezes. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, no, of course not. I’m sorry, Alexander, it’s just that I have some terribly debilitating disease and I don’t want you to catch it.” 

Alec looks confused for a moment, and then his mouth twitches up into a smirk. “Terribly debilitating disease, huh?” 

Magnus sags against the doorframe. “I don’t appreciate the teasing when I’m grievously ill.”

Alec just smirks patiently. 

“Alright, perhaps not _terribly_ debilitating or _grievously_ ill, but I still have a cold.”

Alec’s smirk morphs into a frown. “You could have called me, I would have come and taken care of you. It might not seem like it, but I make excellent soup.” 

Magnus can’t help himself – he leans forward and kisses Alec gently, lips barely touching. Then he has to wrench himself back and cough harshly into his fist, shattering the lightbulb behind him. Alec jumps, peering over his shoulder to look at the glass on Magnus’ living room floor. 

“Ah, those, uh – those bulbs are faulty,” Magnus says, too tired to panic properly. “I’ve been meaning to get new ones.”

Alec arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. He seems to be getting used to the plethora of weirdness that follows Magnus around like a dodgy floating cloak. He steps aside to let Alec in, watching Alec shed his jacket and hang it up on the coatrack, which bows stiffly when Alec looks away. 

Magnus coughs again, and there’s a tinkling sound as the lightbulb in the bedroom shatters again. Alec frowns at a point just over Magnus’ shoulder, trying to get a peek through the open door, and then his eyes widen. His whole body seizes up and he stares, mouth hanging open. “Magnus… did your house plant just wave at me?”

Magnus freezes. He whirls around and glares, hissing, “Figmund, you _promised_.” 

Figmund, gives another unrepentant leafy wave, the little shit, and Magnus hears Alec make a slightly strangled sound behind him, like he’s been punched in the stomach. Magnus whips around again and plasters on a smile. Alec’s eyes are wide and he’s still gaping like a fish, and he’s staring at Magnus like he just sprouted several extra limbs and started singing the Swedish National Anthem in a falsetto. 

“You’re catching flies, darling,” Magnus says, dropping the smile with a tired sigh. 

“I have no idea what’s going on.” 

“Well, this apartment has taken a fancy to you since you first came around, and I’m honestly not quite sure how you haven’t noticed the usual shenanigans before now. Figmund is just the latest in a long line of offenders.” 

“Magnus. Explain.”

Magnus is itching to leave. He wants to bundle Alec up in his coat and go for a nice walk together in the local park, enjoying the way the light streetlamps bounce off Alec’s cheekbones. Maybe grab a bite to eat afterwards. He doesn’t want to sit here and watch as Alec leaves because of Magnus’ impossible secret. 

Magnus sighs and spreads his hands. “I’m a Warlock. I have magic. There’s no other way to explain it, really. I make potions and I do spells, and I promise, I’m not making this up. I have magic.”

There is a beat of silence, and Alec’s face twists with disbelief. “What?”

“Magic, Alexander,” Magnus explains patiently. “It’s genetic, passed down from my Grandmother. I’ve been a Warlock since the day I was born.” He holds up a hand, careful not to put too much force into it, since his magic always gets a little exuberant when he’s sick, and a pile of blue, flickering flames appears in his palm. Alec sucks in a breath and stares, transfixed. He extinguishes the flames with a gentle breath. “It’s magic. I’ve been trying to keep it a secret, since I know it’s a lot to take in.”

Another beat of silence follows, and then Alec’s eyes go wide again, and he lifts a shaking hand to point at Magnus. “I knew I saw your side-table move the other day!” 

The side-table in question peers around the edge of the couch, and Magnus shoos it away with a rather pathetic flap of his hand. Alec watches it, jaw hanging open. 

“That explains so much! The crystal ball, the first time I saw you, and all the times I thought I saw something or heard something. I could have sworn I heard your books muttering about how they’d like to bookmark my ass and come back to it later!” 

Magnus coughs a laugh, and then he flops gracelessly down on the couch and plonks his head in his hands, careful not to muss his already atrocious hair. He feels like a ball of led, weighed down and exhausted – partly from the amount of accidental magic he keeps doing now that he’s sick, and partly just because he’s not well – and the way Alec’s looking at him isn’t helpful. 

“Does that mean all the little trinkets were from you as well? The dreamcatcher and the feathery stones? And your friends, are they warlocks too? Is that why they’re so brightly coloured? I knew it wasn’t body paint, I knew it! And that day with the door, and the weird shell I could see in your shopping bag, and…” Alec seems to run out of steam, mouth opening and closing as he surveys the apartment, where all manner of things are coming to life, popping up off of shelves and wriggling around to get a good look at him.

“I suppose that’s it, then,” Magnus says dully. “I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. I know it’s strange. I mean, I have magic. Magic is not a normal thing. Well, not for you anyway. It is for me. But, I’d understand completely if you’d rather we stopped spending time with each other.”

Even more silence, and Magnus sighs quietly to himself. He can’t believe he’s let himself get this deep this quickly, but he doesn’t lose Alec. He’s falling in love with him, slowly – perhaps he’s already fallen, and all he knows is that if Alec leaves over this, if his magic ruins one of the best relationships he’s ever had, Magnus won’t be able to look at it the same way ever again. 

“Magnus,” Alec says patiently, fondly, “you don’t honestly think I’d have a problem with this, do you?”

Magnus stops his internal monologue about how much darker his life is going to be without Alec in it and looks up, astonished. Alec stares down at him, a little quirk to his eyebrow that Magnus adores, and Magnus can’t keep the hope out of his voice. 

“Really?” Magnus says quietly. “You really mean that?” 

“I mean, I might need a little time to get used to it,” Alec admits, eyes widening again when the lamp bends at the waist to see around the corner. “And this really isn’t what I was expecting when I woke up this morning, so I’ll probably freak out later, when I’m alone, but this is kind of… amazing.” 

Magnus laughs incredulously, warmth spreading from his head to his toes. “Alexander, darling, if I weren’t sick then I’d kiss you again.” 

“About that,” Alec says, suddenly stern. “You should be in bed. You look awful.” 

“Such a flatterer.”

“No,” Alec says hurriedly. “I love how you look. You just don’t look well.”

Magnus flaps a hand and curls up on the couch, shifting his legs to make room for Alec, who hesitates. 

“You should take something,” Alec says. “And you need water, and something to eat.”

Magnus pulls a face. “Not that I don’t appreciate the attention, darling, but I don’t think my stomach can cope with anything more than dry toast.” 

“Dry, dull, tasteless toast it is, then.” Alec’s mouth quirks, and he brushes a quick hand over Magnus’ hair before sidling past him into the kitchen. All the furniture turns as one to watch his progress, and Magnus laughs loudly, which leads to a small coughing fit and a concerned look from the kitchen. 

“Oh, thank you,” he hears Alec telling the toaster, as it pops the bread down by itself, and Magnus grins sleepily to himself and settles in. They’ll have to talk, later on, of course, but his last thought before he falls asleep is that he could definitely get used to this. 

*

“I take it back,” Magnus says. “I hope I never have to get used to this.”

This being a drunk, stumbling Alec, who keeps stroking the walls with an enamoured look and mumbling about how pretty the world is. The picture frames keep cooing at him, and Alec keeps cooing back. It’s been a week or so since Magnus accidentally outed himself as a warlock, and although they haven’t really talked about it, Alec keeps coming back, miraculously, growing used to the apartment’s strange fascination with him. He still questions it, sometimes, and Magnus doesn’t have to the courage to tell him that it’s because Magnus is fascinated with him, and that adoration is bleeding through his magic into his surroundings. 

“Magnus,” Alec says, drawing out the vowels, dazed. “Magnus, I can taste colours.” 

Magnus snorts delicately and carefully steers Alec into the kitchen, where the fridge door is wide open and there’s a long line of bottles and vials on the counter beside it. Alec leans against him heavily, humming under his breath, his gaze vacant. 

“I need you to tell me which one of these you took,” Magnus says slowly, and Alec squints at him. He lifts up one vial, a sparkling blue one, and Alec shakes his head. Magnus moves on to the next vial, and the next one, until there’s none left, and then he throws his hands up in exasperation. 

“You must have taken something, Alexander. You said you were going to get a drink and then you came back in with a silly look on your face, tripping over your own feet.” 

“The one in the carton,” Alec says, slurring. “I thought it was orange juice. It has an orange on the front of it. Magnus, Magnus, do you think oranges have feelings?”

Magnus pats him on the back soothingly. “I’m sure they don’t, darling.”

“Do you think they cry when we cut them up?”

Magnus pauses, side-eyeing Alec, who’s staring at him earnestly. It’s almost, almost tempting to say yes, but he would never be quite that cruel. 

“No, I don’t think oranges cry when we cut them up. God, that’s disturbing, what on earth did you take? Oh.” 

He lifts the carton of orange juice out of the fridge and unscrews the lid, peering inside. The contents are a bright, vivid purple, and it's a wonder Alec didn't notice; he must have sipped straight out of the carton. Magnus vaguely recalls making it when Ragnor was here, planning on using him as a test subject while he was unaware. Not that he makes a habit of drugging his friends, or anything. 

He had shoved it in the orange juice carton when Alec arrived at the door, but it was a shade of orange then. 

“Okay, Alexander, you took a little Reality Altering Potion, and it’s stronger than usual because it’s a little out of date, so you’re going to need to sleep off the effects. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone right now, so you’ll have to use my bed, if you’re comfortable with that?”

Magnus is very conscious of the fact that Alec cannot really consent to anything in his state, even something as simple as cuddling, and he doesn’t quite know what to do if Alec insists on his presence, but luckily, he doesn’t have to worry about that. Alec stumbles his way into the bedroom and collapses, surprisingly gracefully, onto the bed, burying his face in a pillow and promptly falling asleep. Magnus tuts fondly, leaning down to adjust the pillow slightly, so that Alec doesn’t smother himself in his sleep, and then moving to untie his shoes. He leaves his clothes alone and puts the shoes at the base of the bed, pulling out a blanket and draping it over Alec’s shoulders before finding one for himself and retreating to the couch. 

He makes sure to pour the rest of the Reality Altering Potion down the sink before he goes to sleep. 

*

Magnus wakes up in the middle of the night to find a dark figure peering down at him, and his heart leaps into his throat in fear. There are sparks at the tips of his fingers before he realises that it’s Alec, and he extinguishes them with a relieved sigh, leaving them in complete darkness. Alec is watching him curiously, head tipped to the side. 

“You could have slept in the bed,” Alec says, voice hoarse with sleep. “I didn’t mind.” 

“I’m pretty big on consent, Alec, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable when you woke up. You were under the influence, and not acting like yourself.”

Alec simply holds out his hands, something soft in his expression, and Magnus levers himself up and tangles their fingers together, his rings sliding against Alec’s smooth, bare skin. Alec pulls him up properly, tugging him forward until their lips are pressed together and they’re kissing deeply, everything hushed and quiet in the in the dark. Magnus pulls back after a moment or two, breathing heavily, and Alec follows him, kissing him again, and again. 

“What brought this on?” Magnus asks against his lips. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Missed you,” Alec says, between kisses. “Woke up in your bed and you weren’t there.”

“Alexander, we’ve never woken up together before,” Magnus says, laughing slightly. 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Magnus, come to bed.”

Magnus groans a little, because he’s only human, but then he pulls back and fixes Alec with a warning look, reaching up to brush his hands through his hair, feeling the soft strands run between his fingertips and enjoying the way Alec’s eyes darken slightly. 

“Just to sleep,” Magnus says softly. “The potion might not be entirely out of your system yet, okay?”

Alec’s eyes crinkle slightly when he smiles. “Just to sleep. I’m sure I can cope with that.” 

Magnus lets himself by led into the bedroom, smiling widely, his heart beating a mile a minute, happier than he’s been in a long time. 

*

Morning comes too quickly for Magnus, who wakes up curled in the circle of Alec’s arms. The blankets rearrange themselves around his hips, and the lightbulb, which repaired itself at some point, flickers to life gently, filling the room with soft yellow light. 

They spend long minutes kissing chastely when Alec wakes up, and then Magnus does a searching spell with a sweep of his hands, looking for trace elements of the potion in Alec’s system. 

“You could have done that last night,” Alec says playfully, eyes twinkling, and Magnus flicks him on the shoulder. 

“Behave, or I’ll withhold coffee,” he says, grinning, and Alec groans, rolling over like he means to get out of bed. “You don’t have to do that, you know. Perks of being a warlock include magically-appearing coffee.” 

He wiggles his fingers and laughs at Alec’s reverent expression when two mugs of steaming hot coffee appear on the bedside table. Alec lunges at him and kisses him hard, even though Magnus is still laughing, and then they settle back against the headboard and sip at their coffee, revelling in the quiet morning. 

“We haven’t actually talked about my magic,” Magnus offers, a little tentatively. 

Alec shrugs. “There’s not much to talk about.”

“It’s magic, Alexander, of course there’s a lot to talk about. You’ve been living in a world with no prior notion towards magic, and suddenly you’re surrounded by it. That’s got to be uncomfortable for you.” 

“Not uncomfortable, so much as strange,” Alec says slowly, like he’s testing each word before he shares his thoughts. “Strange because it’s a secret you’ve kept all your life, and I could have lived my whole life without knowing anything about it. I’ve been wondering, though, why you kept it a secret for so long? We’ve known each other for a while now.” 

Magnus thinks about it for a second, even though the answer is pretty much obvious. “I guess I wasn’t ready.” 

“Ready for what?” 

“Ready for you to leave me,” Magnus admits, sighing softly. “You may have taken it well, but there was always a possibility that you could have reacted badly. Some people just can’t accept the possibility of something so vast and important, not even when it’s staring them in the face. Especially something so strange.” 

“It’s not strange,” Alec says immediately. He puts his coffee down and turns, his expression soft and his eyes serious. He rests a hand on Magnus’ cheek and leaves it there, stroking a thumb back and forth against his skin. “Magnus, it’s not strange. I love your magic. I might not understand it, and it might have confused me at first, but I don’t find it strange or weird or whatever other adjective that’s going around and around inside your head. It’s part of you, and I couldn’t possibly hate it. I couldn’t possibly hate anything about you. I love you.” 

Magnus can feel his heart soar at Alec's words. It warms something vulnerable and unsure deep down inside of him, makes his blood rush and his head spin. He lifts a hand to cover Alec’s, squeezing gently, and pulls him into a kiss. 

“I love you too. Can I ask you something?”

Alec pulls back, face flushed with happiness, but doesn’t let go of their hands. He tangles their fingers together instead and quirks an eyebrow at him, reaching over to pick up his coffee and take a sip.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” 

“What did you see, when you looked in the crystal ball?” 

Alec blushes a deep red and averts his gaze. He bites his lip, and Magnus watches him curiously. 

“This,” Alec admits, lifting their hands slightly. “Mornings like this. Evenings like this. Just, this. I saw a whole future together.” 

Magnus lifts their hands, kisses his knuckles. 

“I think I like the sound of that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! please leave a comment/kudos on your way out, I'd really appreciate it, and come chat with me on tumblr @thealmostrhetoricalquestion if you like, I'd love to hear from you :) Thank you so much!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that. Next chapter is coming up soon, I can't wait for it. Please leave kudos and a comment, let me know what you thought, I'd love to hear from you. Thank you so much for reading! Come find me @thealmostrhetoricalquestion to chat if you like :)


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